The helmet digs into his forehead as he puts it on, hiding his scowl. "Isn't going to work, I can't read a damn thing in your language and I definitely don't know how this thing works."
He sees the same notification pop up when he dons the helmet as he did the last time he'd tried it. In mando'a, he'd assumed it was some kind of welcome message, or a keep out error.
HI, DETECTIVE.
Badd lets out a loud, rough chuckle. His hand presses to the side of the helmet, as if touching someone else's cheek.
"That asshole, he must have stolen my biometrics out of my file at work and programmed them into the helmet..." Badd's voice is full of adoration for his asshole of a partner. "Whatever you did, I can read the words now. How do I make it work?"
VOICE ACTIVATION, DI'KUT.
The letters were basic, but Byrne hadn't bothered to translate that particular word. Didn't need to. Badd knew a handful of mando'a phrases and Byrne adored throwing that one at him and teasing that it meant this or that glorious honorific, until Badd 'interrogated' its true meaning out of him. Di'kut--someone so stupid they couldn't even get their pants on properly.
"Find Byrne's armor," he said, how holding the sides of the helmet in both hands. "No, put it on a map, I can't read that. Okay. Oh, hell."
He turned his head towards Novoc. "I found it. It's not far from here, it's in the business district. Byrne brought the helmet back but looks like he couldn't sneak the rest of the armor home without attracting attention."
Wait. Badd sat up a little straighter. "Can this thing export data? From its cameras, or whatever? There might be something on it I can use." Whatever Byrne found that night was valuable enough that they'd killed him for it, when before they'd been willing to leave the tripartite bird alone. And if they didn't want Byrne to have it, Badd wanted the whole damn world to see it.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-08-14 03:14 am (UTC)He sees the same notification pop up when he dons the helmet as he did the last time he'd tried it. In mando'a, he'd assumed it was some kind of welcome message, or a keep out error.
HI, DETECTIVE.
Badd lets out a loud, rough chuckle. His hand presses to the side of the helmet, as if touching someone else's cheek.
"That asshole, he must have stolen my biometrics out of my file at work and programmed them into the helmet..." Badd's voice is full of adoration for his asshole of a partner. "Whatever you did, I can read the words now. How do I make it work?"
VOICE ACTIVATION, DI'KUT.
The letters were basic, but Byrne hadn't bothered to translate that particular word. Didn't need to. Badd knew a handful of mando'a phrases and Byrne adored throwing that one at him and teasing that it meant this or that glorious honorific, until Badd 'interrogated' its true meaning out of him. Di'kut--someone so stupid they couldn't even get their pants on properly.
"Find Byrne's armor," he said, how holding the sides of the helmet in both hands. "No, put it on a map, I can't read that. Okay. Oh, hell."
He turned his head towards Novoc. "I found it. It's not far from here, it's in the business district. Byrne brought the helmet back but looks like he couldn't sneak the rest of the armor home without attracting attention."
Wait. Badd sat up a little straighter. "Can this thing export data? From its cameras, or whatever? There might be something on it I can use." Whatever Byrne found that night was valuable enough that they'd killed him for it, when before they'd been willing to leave the tripartite bird alone. And if they didn't want Byrne to have it, Badd wanted the whole damn world to see it.